


What It's Worth

by fishfingersandjellybabies



Category: Batman (Comics)
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-03
Updated: 2015-11-03
Packaged: 2018-04-29 16:53:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5135333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fishfingersandjellybabies/pseuds/fishfingersandjellybabies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Damian discovers what Tim did to bring him back, and will stop at nothing to break the deal. No matter what Tim, or any of his lovers, say.</p>
<p>(Sequel to <i>Anything It Takes</i>.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	What It's Worth

**Author's Note:**

> Sequel to Anything It Takes. This is about three years after that fic, so Damian’s 25/26. None of them are in vigilante uniform when they go to see Ra’s, but Damian’s wearing a ‘traditional’ traveler’s cloak thing. Tim is just feeling a lot of guilt throughout this whole thing. Dick’s just panicking about the idea of losing Damian all over again, a minor fear for all of them, really. Jason is the only super supportive one, poor thing. Damian is content at the end, though the others are still concerned about what he just agreed to. Ending is terrible because I didn’t really know how to end it, so. Who cares. There’s probably some sexy times either on the flight home or as soon as they get home. These boys are 0-60 constantly, holy jesus.
> 
> _[Anything It Takes](http://fishfingersandjellybabies.tumblr.com/post/130173016402/anything-it-takes-fic) _

They watched, from their perch on the bed – Dick and Jason huddled together at the headboard, Tim sitting politely at the end of the mattress – as Damian paced in front of them.

He was _pissed_.

And frankly, Jason and Dick didn’t blame him.

Tim probably didn’t either, but he had to at least _pretend_ to defend his honor.

“Damian,” Tim whispered, not quite daring to reach out for him. “Love-”

“You _lied_.” Damian hissed, and when he looked over, he was glaring over Tim’s head, at the two lounging in each other’s arms. “You _all_ did.”

“To be fair.” Jason drawled, before anyone could stop him. “You never really _asked_.”

“You were recovering. It wasn’t the right time.” Dick quickly translated as Damian huffed, and went back to pacing. “Not to mention, it wasn’t our secret to _tell_.”

Tim glanced coolly back at him.

“How.” Damian growled, before Tim could say anything, and he turned back to their youngest. “How _could_ you.”

Tim just watched him, for another two laps, before softly, gently, _lovingly_ , he whispered. “It was worth it.”

And that’s when Damian moved. That’s when he lashed out, grabbed Tim’s face with two rough hands, dug his fingers into Tim’s cheeks, jerked him up to meet his gaze.

“It _wasn’t_.” Damian snarled, as Jason shifted to move, already prepared to pull Damian back. After all, Pit madness was just one of those things. It didn’t go away with time, and often appeared out of the blue. And it wasn’t like Damian had _ever_ hurt them, in the years since they’d gotten him back, not when he went into his rages, but it was always better to be safe than sorry. Damian surprised him, though, deflating almost instantly. Slumping, just slightly, closing his eyes and pressing his forehead against Tim’s. “ _I_ wasn’t.”

Tim smiled, as Jason dropped back into Dick’s arms, lifting his own hands and holding Damian’s jaw. “You _were_.” He promised, even as Damian shook his head. “You always have been, and always _will_ be.”

Damian just squeezed his eyelids, holding them shut as he shook his head. “You’ve ruined your own life. Destroyed everything you’ve ever accomplished. Everything you ever worked for. Just to bring some _failure_ like myself ba-”

“And I’d do it again.” Tim announced proudly, leaning back slightly. And both Dick and Jason knew what his tactic was – it was one they all used often. Always on each other, but mostly on their youngest, whose self-worth was more shattered than any of them ever believed, especially after he’d been resurrected. Reel him in with gentle truths, distract him with adoring words, then destroy him with sweet kisses and tender touches. Melt his mind as they made love, make it so no thought could enter that skull, even if he was aware of the trick. Tim leaned forward, caught him in a kiss. Held him close, even as he continued to pull back, giving Damian no choice but to follow. “I’d do it a thousand times over, if it meant I got to hold you again. If it meant _any_ of us got to hold you again.”

And Tim almost got him, almost leaned back enough, where Damian would have no choice but to let gravity take over, and follow him onto the bed. But Damian was still shaking his head, still pinching his face when suddenly – he released Tim’s face and backed up a step.

“I have to go.” Damian decided, spinning away, not watching Tim’s hands fall disappointedly back into his lap. “I have to go speak to my grandfather. I have to break your deal if it’s the last thing I do.”

“Wha-”

And now it was Dick who was jumping up, though they were all alarmed by the words. “No.” Dick ordered, bouncing from the mattress and grabbing Damian’s arm. “No, you’re _not_.”

“I _am_.” Damian pushed. “It’s the only way to maintain Drake’s safety.”

“Damian-”

“Unhand me, Grayson.” Damian growled, pulling just slightly. “ _Now_.”

“What is _with_ you people and the whole ‘self-sacrificing’ thing?” Jason groaned, rolling over on the bed so his own feet were on the ground. Dick and Damian halted their budding argument, looked back towards him. Jason glanced over, pointed his glare at Tim. “It’s a real turn-off, in case you were _unaware_.”

“Noted.” Tim drawled with a roll of his eyes. “But Damian, Dick’s right. That’s _not_ happening. I made my bed, and I’ll lie in it. So-”

“Would one of you let me finish my thought? _Please?_ ” Dick snapped, staring between their youngest. Tim crossed his arms and Damian huffed. “Now, Damian. I didn’t mean to come off as saying you _weren’t_ _going_. It’s important, you’re right. One of the most important things in the world. I _want_ you to go.” Dick turned back to him, and there was grin on his face. “I _wanted_ to say – before you _both_ so _rudely_ cut me off – was that that there’s no way in hell you’re going _alone_.”

Tim frowned. “Wait-”

“I mean, we all know Ra’s, here. And we all know that if he can’t have Tim, he’ll try to take _you_.” Dick explained, even while Tim sputtered behind him. “Now _I_ would go alone, because I’m technically a neutral party, but I can’t promise I wouldn’t beat the living _crap_ out of your grandpa and then some.” He grinned, slid his hand down Damian’s arm to lace their fingers together, even as he stepped further into Damian’s space, leaned close enough that his breath washed across Damian’s skin. “And how would I get to kiss you every day if I were thrown in prison for homicide, hm?”

Damian chuckled lightly, gratefully squeezing at Dick’s fingers.

“Excuse me, I’m not some…some _princess_.” Tim called over them, hoping he broke their moment. “I’m not some _trophy_ to be fought over-”

“Of course not.” Jason hummed. “That’s why we’re all going.”

Tim and Damian glanced at each other, before both staring at Jason. Jason just smirked, glanced at the ceiling as if in need of prayer.

“Dickie’s going with him, to make sure Ra’s doesn’t try any shit, and also protect him from whatever weird-ass crap _Grandpa of the Year_ tries.” Jason explains. “So, by default, not that I’m complaining, that leaves me protecting you, in case Ra’s tries to sneak something by D-squared, here. However, I know Hell’s _gotta_ freeze over first before _you_ let Damian anywhere _near_ his grandfather, so. Dick’s with Damian, and I’m with you. But you’re _also_ with Damian so-”

“Road trip.” Dick sang softly, leaning those last few centimeters further and kissing the corner of Damian’s mouth.

Tim pursed his lips, even as Jason reeled him in with an arm across his shoulders, and smacked a loving, almost apologetic, but in a _you-brought-this-on-yourself-beautiful_ kind of way, peck to his cheek.

“I fucking _hate_ road trips.”

~~

Getting there ended up being the easiest thing any of them had ever done. At least for the elder three.

Because Damian gave no one a chance. No guard, no assassin, no doorman. If they appeared in their path, Damian put them down, with a swish of his cloak and a punch of his fist.

And despite their plans, despite Jason and Dick being very open and clear about which of their lovers they were responsible for, and needed to keep in their sights at all times, it was Jason who intervened, when further down the hallway, Damian’s fury got too much. Jason who held the other two back and ran forward, when Damian’s punches became unnecessary and overly violent, when his tight fists began to dig into the palms of his hands and his breaths became heavy.

It was always amazing to watch, for Tim and Dick. To watch Jason – an angry survivor of death himself – calm Damian’s rage. Clamp his hands over Damian’s ears, force him to focus on Jason and Jason alone. Run his thumbs across Damian’s eyebrows, whisper softly to him until his breath slows, until his fists unclench.

“Deep breaths for me, babe.” Jason’s gentle voice carried, even as Dick and Tim kept their distance, gave the other two a little bit of privacy, watched for more guards. “Slow down.”

“No.” Damian’s tone was shaky even as he closed his eyes, went through the breathing exercises Jason taught him and perfected over the last three years. “No, he- he threatened _Drake_. He’s trying to take Timothy – _our_ Timothy, _my Timothy_ – _away_ from us. And I _will not stand for_ -”

“Stop.” Was all Jason hummed, shifting his stroking from Damian’s brows to his temples. “Just stop, Damian.”

“ _No_.” Damian hissed, pushing blindly up into Jason’s space. “Not until you’re all safe, not until-”

There was the clearing of a throat.

They all turned and looked further down the hall. There was an assassin there, body covered in armour and masks, only his deep, brown eyes visible.

Jason shifted his grip down to Damian’s shoulders, holding him back even as Damian tried to lunge. Dick, ever the protector, sprinted forward and around them, putting himself between Damian, Jason and the guard, even while Tim jogged up next to Damian, put a hand on his back.

“We’re not here for trouble.” Dick tried, holding his hands out. “Despite what our…trail of carnage to this point implies. We just want to-”

“Lord Ra’s will see you now.” The guard informed plainly, turning away. “Please follow me.”

Oh. That simple, huh.

But even as the elder three reveled for a moment in their shock, Damian acted instantly. Pushed off Jason’s hands and shrugged away Tim’s, stomping forward, and around Dick, after the guard.

Dick glanced back at the other two, before running after him. Jason merely groaned, grabbed Tim’s hand and followed suit.

When they caught up with Damian and the guard, Damian didn’t look at them. All anger, all emotion, seemed to suddenly be gone, and he was stoic. _Too_ stoic.

“I’m not a princess.” Tim reminded gently, slipping his fingers from Jason’s and into Damian’s. When Damian tried to pull away – either to distance himself or put on the show of uncaring for Ra’s – Tim wasn’t having it, tightening his own grip and leaning into his side, clutching at his elbow with his free hand. “And I will not let you face Ra’s by yourself.”

“Of course not.” Damian said coolly. “That’s what Grayson is here for.”

“Thanks.” Dick droned, lightly smacking both of their butts.

Tim grit his teeth, moved his hand from Damian’s elbow to Damian’s opposite cheek, pulled Damian in for a quick peck to his cheek. “I hate you, you know?”

And that, it seemed, finally pulled the knight from his reverie, as a small smirk appeared on his lips, as he squeezed Tim’s fingers back. “And I, you, Beloved.”

“…This was my choice, and I don’t regret making it.” Tim repeated, for what felt like the millionth time. “And no matter what you say, I will be standing by your side, _fighting_ by your side, and I will see it through to the end.”

“We all will.” Jason quipped. “Don’t you two get lost in your own little world. This ain’t no romance flick.”

They stopped at the door, waited as the guard moved to get it open, and Damian, ignoring Jason’s outburst, finally looked over at Tim. “I’d have it no other way.”

“You’d have it a _thousand_ other ways.” Tim countered with a smile. “ _Actually_. You made that clear enough back home.”

“No other way that I currently have time to argue with you about.” Damian returned, almost jovially. “But you will not remain here. I will not leave without you. You have my word. Do not worry.”

Tim laughed, and it was a nervous sound. “What gave me away?”

And as the door swung open, Damian leaned over, leaving a tender, lingering kiss to Tim’s cheek. “Your fingers are shaking.”

Tim blinked, and glanced down at their intertwined hands, even as Damian continued to brush his nose along Tim’s cheek.

“Sweet.” A loud voice suddenly called. All four of them looked up, saw Ra’s al Ghul sitting royally on his throne, watching them with an almost bored expression, his hand resting in the curve of his hand. “Your stealth is weak, Grandson. I thought your mother taught you better than that.”

A tension fell across them, as Damian dropped Tim’s hand and started forward. The other three gave him a two step head start, before following protectively behind. Jason even went so far as to click the safety off of his guns – the ones he promised he wasn’t bringing.

“I wanted you to be aware of what was coming to you.” Damian returned, as he approached the throne. Dick and Jason stopped not far behind him, and Tim took one step more than that.

“And what exactly is coming to me, hm?” Ra’s asked, feigning innocence. “What can I do for y-”

“Break the deal.” Damian demanded, hand already going to the sword on his hip, the one that had been hidden by his cloak. “Break Timothy Drake’s deal and never come near him, or Richard Grayson or Jason Todd, ever again.”

“And what do I get in return?”

“Nothing.” Damian said simply. “Perhaps the knowledge that you might, deep down, _potentially_ , be a decent person.”

“Hm…” Ra’s seemed to think it over, but all of them knew he wasn’t. Not really. “Pass.”

“Fine.” Damian shrugged, unsheathing the sword. Jason swore, even as Dick grabbed at Tim and pulled him back. “Then we’ll duel. Victor gets Drake, and the other never bothers him again.”

“No.” Tim shouted, and this time, he was the one being held back. Thrown into Jason’s arms by Dick as the eldest moved forward. “No, you will _not!_ ”

“You mean, to the victor goes the spoils, while the loser attempts in futility to stop the bleeding.” Ra’s corrected. “I duel to the death, Grandson. You know that.”

“I do.” Damian nodded. “So are you ready?”

“No!” Tim shrieked again, stomping his foot against the marble, even as Dick grabbed Damian’s arm and spun him around. “I told you! I’m not a _trophy_! I am _not a prize!_ ”

Dick clutched at Damian’s shoulders, near shaking him, voice panicked. _“What the hell are you doing.”_

“What is necessary.” Damian replied gently. “Now please, gather Todd and Drake, and head to the gallery of the arena. We will meet you there.”

“No. _No_.” Dick hissed, jerked Damian back and forth. “You…Damian, babe, _beautiful_. You just promised Tim. Just _right now_ , that you would _not_ be leaving without him.”

“True.” Damian allowed. But then he smiled, sad and knowing, glanced back at Tim, who was muttering quickly to Jason, begging to be let go, asking if what he was hearing Damian agree to was true. “But who said I was leaving at all?”

Dick blinked, lips parted. Then his face transformed in fury, into anger. “You little…”

Without warning, he spun Damian away, staring up at Ra’s himself.

“What’ll it take?” Dick shouted. “Outside of a duel, outside of another deal, what will it take for you to leave Tim and Damian alone?”

Ra’s smirked. “Are you saying your lovers have a price?”

“If that’ll make you leave them alone, yes.” Dick shot back. “Because, believe it or not, I know how this _works_ , Ra’s. I know how _you_ work. You didn’t make that deal with Tim, to give us Damian’s body and a Lazarus Pit location, to get solely _Tim._ You made it because it _guaranteed_ you at least one of them. Because Tim made the deal for Damian, but you knew damn well the second Damian found out, he’d be storming in here to make a deal for Tim too.”

“You’re clever for a circus boy, Mr. Grayson.” Ra’s chuckled. “But what if the price was you? Would you pay that?”

“Don’t you dare, Dick!” Tim screamed, pulling against Jason’s arms. “Don’t you _fucking_ dare!”

A hand on his arm. Damian. “Beloved-”

“No.” Dick decided. “No, I wouldn’t.”

Ra’s smirked.

“Because I would not _leave_ them.” Dick explained, knowing it was only for Ra’s’s clarification, not the three lovers behind him. “Not for _anything_.”

“Not even their own safety?”

And Dick opened his mouth to respond shortly again, but suddenly Damian shifted forward.

“Oh, enough with your babble, Grandfather.” He droned, rolling his eyes. The sword was still tight in his hand. “Name your terms to break the deal, or I will name them _for_ you.”

Ra’s chuckled again, leaning back in his chair, staring up at the large, ornate ceiling. “Are you sure, Grandson? That this is what you want?”

“Of course.” Damian responded emotionlessly, gently shifting in front of Dick, pushing him back with a soft hand on his stomach. He glanced back once more, towards Jason first, who nodded encouragingly, then down at Tim, smiling to him just slightly before giving Ra’s his full focus. “I will _not_ make another deal. Not for my own life or anyone else’s. We are people, Ra’s, not things, and I refuse to let you treat us as such. But I am open to other suggestions.”

“Ever the democrat, aren’t you, Damian.” Ra’s hummed. “But fine, I’ll go along with your rules, _dear_ grandson.” He looked back down, and waved him away. “Go back to your lovers while I think it through. I do believe Timothy might be seconds away from having a coronary.”

Damian didn’t even get a chance to nod, before he felt Dick yanking him backwards by his cloak. He twisted around as he reached them, and didn’t fight as Tim broke from Jason’s grasp and lunged at him.

“Don’t you ever,” He hissed, grasping at Damian’s waist, pulling him forward, digging his nails into his spine. “ _Ever_ , pull any of this shit again, do you hear me? And put that damn sword away, for the love of god. I thought you were bringing it for _show_.” Damian laughed, but followed Tim’s orders, leaning forward to place an amused kiss to Tim’s cheek. “A goddamn _duel to the death_ , are you freaking _kidding_ me.”

“Anything for you, my Beloved.” Damian promised, even as he glanced up at Jason, reached around Tim to take Jason’s hand. “I apologize that you’re apparently stuck babysitting.”

“You should be more sorry that you’re putting these ideas in your grandfather’s head.” Dick crossed his arms. “Damian, he’d _kill_ you without a second thought, you _know_ that, and you’re going to risk that for _us_?” He shook his head, and his sigh was nervous, practically scared. “I’m with Tim, we _just_ got you back, it woul-”

“Wouldn’t be worth it?” Damian hummed, with a smirk. “Now where have I heard _that_ before?” He glanced down at Tim. “And what was the _response_ to it, again?”

Tim huffed, but remained pressed against Damian’s neck.

“Okay children, settle down. You two, sheath the claws.” Jason laughed, kissing Damian’s fingers, glancing over as Dick sucked his lips angrily between his teeth. “Just get this done, babe, so we can all go home together, and in _one piece_.”

“You know I cannot guarantee that, as I’ve never been able to.” Damian replied softly, squeezing at Jason’s fingers before he dropped them, tried to maneuver himself away from Tim, but found it an almost losing battle. “But I will do wha-”

“A favor.”

Ra’s’s voice echoed through the chambers, and they all went silent. Tim gave Damian’s back one last squeeze before dropping his arms, letting Damian turn back around.

“What?”

“A favor.” Ra’s repeated. “I will drop Mr. Drake’s agreement if you agree to owe me a favor.”

Damian felt the ghost of Dick’s fingers as he stepped away from them. “What kind of favor?”

“To be determined.” Ra’s defined. “But no holds barred. The favor would be for anything I want, and cannot be declined. When I call, you come, or Mr. Drake’s deal will be back on, and I’ll come to retrieve him myself, posthaste.”

A pause.

“Examples.” Tim called, and Damian heard Jason try to shush him. “Give us some examples, Ra’s.”

“Infiltration, trespassing, theft of property, a death or two. You know how I operate, Timothy. You know what I do.” And Ra’s smiled again. Dark and victorious. “ _Anything_ I want.”

Another silence.

“No.” Tim whispered. Damian lowered his eyes, tilted his head. “I will not risk breaking your morals, Damian. I won’t let you _potentially kill someone_ – not for _me_. Turn it down. Tell him to think of something else.”

Damian looked back to his grandfather.

“One favor, anything you want.” Damian said slowly. “And after it’s done, all deals will be squared?”

“Yes.”

“And you’ll leave Drake alone after that?”

“Of course.” Ra’s nodded. “And Mr. Grayson and Mr. Todd. Even _you_ , if you so wished.”

No hesitation. “Then it’s a deal.”

Jason watched as Dick looked away. As Tim closed his eyes, and sighed.

“A blood oath?” Ra’s asked, already rolling up his sleeve. “After all, that’s how Timothy made his. And if we want to make this an _even exchange_ …”

And even as Damian stepped forward, as he pushed back his own sleeve, he heard Jason slap Tim’s arm and hiss. “Fuckin’ _really?!_ You didn’t tell us that!”

Damian smirked, and looked up. “My knife or yours?”

Ra’s returned the smile – and it was almost like a shared family moment.

Almost.

“Mine.” Jason called from behind them. Loudly, confidently. Damian spun around, watching Jason jog between the other two, whip his switchblade out of his pocket. He slowed to a stop between them, grabbing roughly at Ra’s’s arm. “You’re going to use _mine_ because I don’t trust you as far as I can throw you, old man.”

He slashed roughly at Ra’s’s palm, before turning and tenderly taking Damian’s. He stared at it a moment, before glancing up, through his lashes. Damian smiled warmly and nodded. Jason’s gaze dropped again, and he inhaled, held the breath as he ran the blade quickly across Damian’s skin.

Damian held out his hand and Ra’s took it.

“It’s a deal.” Ra’s repeated, as they shook once and parted. “I look forward to working with you again, Grandson.”

“Sooner, rather than later.” Damian shrugged, cradling his hand. “I imagine we will have safe passage home?”

“Of course.” Ra’s nodded. “Would you like medical attention before you leave?”

“No, I think,” And Damian dared a laugh, even as Jason took the slashed hand. “I think I have it handled.”

“Very well.” Ra’s nodded, turning away himself. “Until next time, Damian.”

“…Until then.” Damian returned, even as Jason began to tug him down the stairs. “…Ra’s?”

“Hm?”

“You do not really deserve it, but.” Damian pursed his lips, and Ra’s suddenly had a flashback, to a haughty little boy who ran down these halls, calling for his mother and grandfather. “Thank you, Grandfather. For agreeing to do this.”

“You are family. I’d be a _true_ monster if I did not at least _try_ to compromise.” Ra’s shrugged, continuing his path. “Give the Detective my regards.”

Damian inclined his head once in a bow, even as Jason yanked him away.

“You freaking _nerd_.” Jason was muttering, running his fingers through the budding puddle of blood. “You could have _mentioned_ there was a possibility of a _blood oath_ , I would have at least have been able to bring _band-aids_.”

Tim joined them as they passed through him and Dick. He was eerily silent as he hooked his arm around Damian’s hips, pulling a handkerchief from his jacket and pressing it to the wound.

“Oh, for goodness sake,” Damian breathed a chuckle, as Jason swapped what wrist of Damian’s he was holding, and let Tim take over the medical care. “You two must relax, it is barely a _scratch_ …”

And at the sound of the far door opening, Ra’s turned back to the room, and was to surprised to find Dick still standing there.

“You got what you came for.” Ra’s said boredly. “Timothy Drake is free from the deal that helped bring Damian back.”

“But Damian’s not.” Dick returned. His voice was low, dark and furious. “He’s still bound to you.”

“For one measly favor. The agreement with my grandson today barely makes up for the investment I made in trying to gain Timothy Drake.” Ra’s snorted. “Damian saw that, saw the bargain he was truly getting and acted accordingly. I daresay I’m almost _proud_ of him.”

Dick hesitated, then, and Ra’s saw the anger running through his bones. Bleeding through his skin, seeping from his pores.

“Don’t cash the favor.”

“I beg your pardon?” Ra’s asked, almost taken aback.

“ _Never_ call Damian and cash that favor.” Dick repeated.

“Oh no,” Ra’s laughed, moving to turn away again. “I am not here to make a deal with _you_ , Mr. Grayson, so do not-”

“I’m not making a _deal_.” Dick snapped, and it made Ra’s pause. “I’m making a _promise_.”

Ra’s looked down at him, narrowed his eyes as he saw Dick stomping towards him. “And what promise is that?”

“That if you cash that favor,” Dick growled as he got into Ra’s’s face, loomed dangerously over him. “I’ll kill you.”

“…To save a man who has killed before from killing again, you’d break your own morals and do the deed yourself?” Ra’s asked, glancing down at Dick’s hands, balled so tight his knuckles were turning white. He looked back up. “You must really love him.”

“And then some.” Dick spat. “So mark my words, Ra’s. Don’t call. Not Damian, not Tim, not even Jason. Not _ever_. _Never_ call for this favor or-”

“Dick.”

Dick turned, and they both found Jason standing in the doorway. His bright green eyes were sympathetic and knowing, and gently he shook his head.

“Tim and Damian have already made enough bad choices for all four of us.” Jason whispered. “Don’t make another one.”

Ra’s watched Dick’s face, the guilt already seeping into his eyes. The sadness and the fury intermingling, the protection and the devotion melting together, as he stared across the floor at Jason.

And Ra’s knew, in that instant – that it wasn’t just for his grandson, for Timothy Jackson Drake, that Dick Grayson would tear apart the world for.

That Dick Grayson’s threat, his _promise_ , was serious.

“Come on, beautiful.” Jason said gently, holding his hand out. “They’re waiting.”

And Ra’s was almost surprised by how quickly Dick backed off. How quickly he hopped down the stairs, and practically sprinted for the safety of Jason’s fingers.

“And _waiting_ is a very loose term.” Jason shrugged as Dick came towards him. “Tim’s either about to punch him or jump him, I’m not real sure. All I know is we’re going to want to be there to either pull them apart or join in the fun, so…”

When Dick reached him, Jason wrapped his hand tightly around his, pulled Dick to his chest and kissed him. It was quick, hard, but enough time for Jason to grab his face, look in his eyes and quietly ask, “You okay? You gonna _be_ okay?”

Dick swallowed, nodded, refused to make eye contact and Jason released his fingers, pushed him into the hall. There was a second before Jason, too, turned back to Ra’s. His green eyes – his _al Ghul eyes_ – were shimmering, with the same ferocity and protection as Dick’s had.

But Jason merely tapped his fingers against the wood of the door, pursed his lips and clicked his tongue. He slipped back out the door, disappearing along with his lovers, but his voice echoed loudly through the room regardless. Godlike and menacing.

“You heard him, old man.”

And after a moment, into the emptiness, Ra’s replied.

“I did indeed.” He smirked, turning away, out of his chambers. “And I look forward to the challenge.”


End file.
